God Speaks; But We Can't Hear.

1 Kings 19:1-15

1

When do we find ourselves longing to hear God’s voice? Often, it’s at the crossroads of life – when we don’t know which way to go, or when we find ourselves in the shadow of despair. We want divine guidance when our plans fall apart, when grief hits, or when change overwhelms us. I remember moments like that in my life: deciding to attend seminary, choosing to set aside comfort for a calling. And later, stepping into marriage – choosing to build a life with someone, with all the joy and responsibility that it brings. Those weren’t easy decisions. They were full of uncertainty. In those moments, I wasn’t just seeking advice – I was seeking assurance. I needed to know that God was present. We often hope for clarity – a sign, a voice, a clear answer. But what we get instead is usually quieter: a nudge, a whisper, or a still presence that meets us when we slow down and pay attention. The real struggle is not whether God speaks, but whether we’re able to listen. Are we quiet enough? Honest enough? Sometimes even broken enough to hear? God doesn’t always speak when we feel strong. God often speaks when life has cracked us open. And even when it feels like silence, perhaps that silence is part of the invitation – to trust, to wait, to keep seeking. When God speaks, it’s not always to fix everything right away, but to remind us: we are not forgotten.

2

Elijah was a prophet during one of the most turbulent times in Israel’s history. Under the rule of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, the people of Israel had turned away from God and embraced the worship of Baal, a Canaanite god associated with storms and fertility. Into this climate of spiritual confusion and political corruption, Elijah appeared with boldness and conviction. He didn’t ease into his role quietly – he confronted power head-on. He declared a drought as a judgment from God, then disappeared into hiding. Years later, Elijah emerged for a dramatic showdown on Mount Carmel. There, he challenged 450 prophets of Baal in a public contest to prove whose god was real. Elijah prayed, and fire from heaven consumed his offering. The people were stunned, and for a moment, it seemed revival had come. Elijah had won. God had spoken. The false prophets were defeated. But then came Jezebel’s threat: she swore to kill Elijah within a day. And that’s when everything changed. Despite the miracle, despite the public victory, Elijah ran. He fled into the wilderness, overwhelmed by fear. Emotionally, Elijah was unraveling. He felt spent, vulnerable, and exposed. His courage gave way to anxiety. His confidence crumbled into despair. He no longer saw the point of going on. Elijah wasn’t just afraid. He was heartbroken, hopeless, and done. Here it is important to note that sometimes, faith doesn’t keep us from breaking – it helps carry us through it.

3

Alone, exhausted, and ready to give up, Elijah told God, "It is enough. Take away my life." It was a moment of deep despair. He felt completely alone, as though everything he had worked for had collapsed. He lay down under a broom tree, wishing for it all to end. And yet – God met him there. Not with rebuke, but with rest. An angel brought him food. He slept. He was given time to recover. Then, after forty days and nights of journeying, he found himself in a cave on Mount Horeb – where God once spoke to Moses. There, God asked, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” It wasn’t a reprimand, but an invitation – to speak, to pour out his heart. Elijah did just that. He voiced his frustration, his loneliness, his sense of futility. He thought he was the only faithful one left. God didn’t argue. Instead, God revealed something deeper. A powerful wind tore through the mountains, but God was not in the wind. An earthquake came, but God was not in the earthquake. Then a fire, but again, no God. Finally, there was a sound of sheer silence – a still, small voice. And in that quiet, Elijah knew: God was present. This moment shifts everything. God wasn’t only in bold miracles but in the quiet that follows collapse. Elijah’s despair became the space for new direction. In our own caves of discouragement, when all feels lost, God still whispers, reminding us that we are seen, we are loved, and we are not alone. That whisper doesn’t just soothe – it reorients, with renewed purpose and hope.

4

At the end of this encounter, God tells Elijah something stunning: “You are not alone. I have preserved 7,000 in Israel who have not bowed to Baal.” Elijah had believed he was the last one standing, the only faithful voice left. But he wasn’t. Quietly, beneath the surface, God had been at work. There were thousands of others who had remained faithful, even if Elijah hadn’t seen them. God had been building a new community all along – out of sight, but never out of reach. This revelation changes everything. It shifts the story from isolation to restoration. Elijah isn’t just comforted – he’s recommissioned. He is given a new mission: to anoint kings, to mentor Elisha, and to help raise up leaders who will carry the work forward. His journey isn’t over. His role is not finished. What God offers him is more than relief; it’s a renewed purpose and a reminder that God’s work is never limited to what we can see. Can Portage United Methodist Church become a place like that? A community quietly rooted in faithfulness? A home where those who feel alone discover they’re part of something larger? A space where weary people find rest, where honest questions are welcome, and where God’s whisper is heard and heeded? God speaks, but sometimes we’re not ready to hear. The good news is that God is patient. God waits, prepares, and speaks again. And when we are ready to listen, we may discover that the next chapter has already begun to unfold.

Prayer

Gracious and patient God, You meet us not just in the fire and wind, but in the silence that follows. You see us in our weariness, in our doubt, in the moments when we feel most alone. And still – you speak. Not always with thunder, but with a whisper that reminds us we are not forgotten. Lord, help us to be still enough to hear You. When we feel like giving up, show us that You are not finished. When we believe we are alone, reveal the community You are quietly building. And may we, like Elijah, be renewed by Your presence and sent with purpose once again. In the name of Christ, we pray. Amen.

2025.07.01.